


Marked

by DarchangelSkye



Category: Canadian Idol RPF, Canadian Music RPF, Music RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Fluff, Innuendo, M/M, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Tattoos, Teasing, Wordcount: 100-2.000, Writing on Skin, Written in 2007
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-05
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 23:07:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2406230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarchangelSkye/pseuds/DarchangelSkye





	Marked

Even with all the confusion and new schedules around him, Brian made it a point to still keep an organized mind. His plans as far as he knew for tonight:

_1\. Man the barbeque at dinner.  
2\. Lay out possible shirts for Monday.  
3\. Phone call to friends back home.  
4\. Tease boyfriend._

At the moment, number four appeared to be the other way around- not that he was going to admit that Greg tracing his tattoo, fingertips brushing along the thin skin of his wrist, was making him shiver. He just half-whispered, "You like that?"

"Yep." Greg planted a wet kiss on the treble clef.

Brian moaned a little (only a little, he had to stay cool and collected) at the sensation, and sat up and stretched. "Y'know...I could give you one like that, if you want."

Greg raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Brian, can you even _be_ a tattoo artist?"

"Sure! On the back streets of Mexico City-" was the answer that earned him a laugh and a good-natured pillow hit on the arm.

"You're weird."

"I knew that! You still up for it?"

Greg shrugged. "Hell, I'm up for anything."

"Pervert." Brian winked and slid off the mattress onto the floor. There had to be a marker or two in the clutter Greg left; wherever he threw it, that's where it belonged.

"Under the jean jacket," Greg's voice said above him. Case in point.

The younger man crawled back onto bed and uncapped the located Sharpie. "Now where do you want it? And don't say on your ass."

Greg mock-pouted. "What's wrong with my ass?"

"Wait, I think I've got it." Brian laid down so he faced his friend's feet, which had been delightfully bare most of the morning. He caressed along the ankle as gently as Greg had done to him, then began drawing as inspiration struck.

Greg snickered as the marker tickled. "I didn't know you had a thing for feet," he said as he closed his eyes and laid back, wanting to be surprised.

"Just yours," the older man admitted and kept drawing. Learning they were ticklish was a bonus to be filed away for later; right now he just needed concentration to get this done.

"At least you're giving me a good view," Greg patted his friend's leg.

It was Brian's turn to laugh. "I knew you were a perv." A few strokes of the marker later he finally asked, "Whaddya think?"

Greg opened his eyes again and craned to see the result: a smiley face topped with a detailed cap, a scatter of tiny hearts to the left and musical notes to the right. He grinned in approval and wiggled his toes. "Melo my man, you are an artistic genius." 

"I knew that." Brian rolled onto his back to see his friend's appreciation. It was something funny and cute...just like them, actually.

"My turn!" With a gleam in his eye, Greg pulled Brian to sitting position and took the Sharpie.

"What are you talking about? I already have a tattoo."

"Ah, you'll like this... _honey_."

Brian half-groaned, "Don't call me that, man." Since he'd learned what Melo actually meant, Greg had been damn near ruthless with that teasing. Yep, he definitely had to find something to bug Greg about. Maybe if he located his iPod...

"Take your shirt off and maybe we have a deal." The younger man twirled the marker in his fingers and grinned devilishly.

Well, there was no use being a party-pooper. Besides, Greg was nice enough to accommodate him. Brian leaned against the headboard and peeled away his shirt, unceremoniously knocking his cap to the floor in the process.

Normally a whistle of approval would've sounded from Greg, but right now he was silent, his smile not as wide but not in disappointment. "You have a beautiful tone," he finally murmured.

The older man gave a tiny grin and laid a hand on his friend's arm to see their shades together. "...Thank you."

Greg scooted closer, uncapped the Sharpie again, and clasped his free hand on Brian's shoulder. "No peeking while I do this, 'K?"

"Hmm." Brian didn't have to look, having every other sense satiated was perfect enough. Feeling a strong hand with long fingers clasped on his bare shoulder. Feeling the light pressure of the marker write in what had to be fancy lettering on his chest, spelling he couldn't make out. Feeling his heart beat under the ink, a rhythm sexually charged and more than a little anxious. Feeling a whisper of Greg's breath on his skin and hearing him quietly hum an old Dave Matthews song. The spell was only broken when he felt a wet fingertip rub on his chest.

"Typo," his friend said matter-of-factly.

God, he loved it when Greg made him laugh, a pure laugh he could feel to the pit of his stomach.

I knew there was a reason I liked you, he thought and slowly moved his hand from Greg's arm to his hip. He didn't have to look at every part that passed under his fingertips, memory served him well. The unmistakable combination of muscle and plush, something his mind classified as "solid and sexy," not that he could say that aloud without serious embarrassment.

Greg's breath hitched in his chest and he brought the Sharpie away. "E-easy there," he breathed in the tones of a man losing composure, something that made Brian smile dizzily.

He had to admit, breaking away from the calm, cool, and collected stance could be pretty hot. He still couldn't see his friend's face, but memory from other occasions came in once again. Eyes half-shut, lips parted a fraction so they almost resembled a bow- damn, he loved that expression.

Satisfied with his tease for now, Brian folded his hands into his lap so Greg could finish. A tranquil breath on his chest let him know his friend was relaxed again. With a deep sigh, he felt himself relaxed enough to sleep.

Soon Greg gave his friend's shoulder a gentle squeeze and brushed a few more strokes of the Sharpie. "OK, you can look now," he said and pulled away.

"Mmm." Brian opened his eyes, stretched once more, and looked down to his heart. Of course it took longer to read upside down but it was worth it. He saw lettering as fancy as in a real tattoo parlor, a pattern the older man slowly let his eyes run over to spell out.

_True Love._

Brian felt what he could only describe as a glow of happiness through his body. Why he felt that way he really couldn't explain, but...he looked back up to Greg, whose smile was still small but still loving...that was the word, loving.

"Thank you," he said, warmer than before.

Greg scooted closer again, draped his arms around Brian's shoulders, and leaned in so their foreheads touched. The wall between them had broken down.

The younger man said nothing, but closed his eyes and began leaving deep kisses on Brian's nose, his cheek, his eyebrow, his neck, his lips; everywhere they would be warm, gladly received, and feel so good. He was right.

Matching kiss for kiss, Brian added another item to his to-do-tonight list:

_5\. Shag boyfriend senseless._


End file.
